


His Lily

by lesyeuxverts



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, HP: EWE, Potions, Romantic Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 09:36:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1030134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesyeuxverts/pseuds/lesyeuxverts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Body and breath and soul, she is his, married to him, just as she always should have been.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Lily

_With this ring, I thee wed..._  
  
Severus didn't see Lily before the ceremony and he doesn't see her now – the veil covers her face. It's dark and he's rucked her skirt up over her shoulders, hiding everything that he doesn't need to see. She's _his_ , really his, and to see her would cheapen it. He doesn't need to see her face.  
  
Kneeling before her, he pushes aside the layers of tulle and lace and silk. She's wrapped like a present, a wedding present to him. He slips one garter off and then the other, unfastening the clasps and pulling her stockings down until he can kiss her bare ankles.   
  
She jerks at the first touch of his lips to her bare skin, and he catches her foot, working to unfasten the clasp on her dainty shoe. He touches her as he pulls off the shoe, caressing her foot and bending down to kiss the top of it. He kisses each toe, sucking on each one in its turn, and she jerks her foot again.  
  
He kisses her largest toe again and makes each kiss count. With these feet, she took her first steps as his wife – stumbling in her high heels and awkward in her finery – and she is his, now and forever.   
  
_With my body, I thee worship..._  
  
Toes, ankles, knobby knees – she's a work of art, even with her scars, and Severus explores her inch by inch. He kisses his way up her smooth legs, touching and tasting and making her tremble. He soothes her when she starts to shake, and braces her against the wall with a hand on each of her hips.   
  
She makes a soft noise and Severus smiles – allows himself a smirk at the thought that he's won such a reaction from his bride – before leaning in again. He presses kisses to her soft thighs and flicks his tongue at her clit, circling around it and humming. Severus's breath catches in his throat when she moans, when he makes her cry out. When she belongs to him.  
  
Her hips jerk and he holds her in place as he sucks and licks, rubbing circles around her hipbones with his thumbs. She begs for more, her body making its own demands even when she refuses to speak, and he gives it to her. He stands and kisses her taut nipples through the silk dress, fucking her with his fingers all the while.   
  
She is his and he will own her, possess her and make her truly his. Her head lolls back against the wall as he slides into her, and he kisses her through the thick veil. He can almost feel her lips through the tulle, can almost feel her nipples through the corset she wears, can feel her shake as he fucks her.   
  
He can't see her – he fucks her and owns her and _worships_ her, but he can't see her through the veil, only shadows and light and the hint of her green eyes darkened with makeup. It doesn't matter. He knows her, he made her, and he doesn't need to see her.  
  
 _With all my wordly goods, I thee endow._  
  
Severus has given her everything – proofs and promises, everything that she asked for. He saved her life, he earned her life and made her his own, and the knowledge makes this final joining all the sweeter.   
  
They've been bound together with words and vows, a public kiss and a golden ring. Everyone saw them married. Everyone saw Severus take her away from Potter, making her belong to him. Now they come together, and it's as if it's the first time, the only time that she has done this – and it's true. He believes it and makes it come true.  
  
Severus bites her shoulder as he thrusts into her again, taking her and claiming her as his wife. His hands on her breasts, her arse, her thighs, her hips – her skin is smooth and soft, as though it's never been blemished, as though she's never been touched. He touches her everywhere, he claims her everywhere.   
  
Lacing his fingers together with hers, he brings her hand to his mouth and kisses it. He fucks her and brings her hand to his neck, making her feel his scars. She gasps, her fingers stiffening as she tries to pull away … but he holds her there, he keeps her. He died for her, and now she lives for him.  
  
She lives for him, and he will give her anything. He will brew potions for her, keeping her and preserving her in her perfect form, making her belong to him. The knobby knees, the scars, the awkward walk – even these remnants of Potter, the hints of the man that she was, he will erase in time.   
  
He has loved her, he has lost her, and he has earned her. All of his sweat and sacrifice and blood – it was worth it, worth _her_ in the end. Even Potter agreed to that.  
  
He thrusts into her again and again, and as he fucks her, he pushes aside her veil and sees her face. Her green eyes, her silky hair, the curve of her lips … she's beautiful, her face a flawless reproduction of what it was. Even her forehead is unblemished, unscarred.   
  
His potion has made no errors here – and when he has perfected it, the rest will be perfect as well, the scars gone and the knees smooth. She'll learn to walk like a woman in time. She'll learn to be his Lily. Potter promised.  
  
Severus leans in to kiss her and she closes her eyes. He kisses each eyelid first, and then the tip of her nose, and then he claims her lips. He claims her, kissing her hard, and she doesn't struggle.  
  
Body and breath and soul, she is his, married to him, just as she always should have been. She's worth the wait, worth the sacrifices … she's worth everything to him. She's his Lily.


End file.
